


breathe

by lostalongtthewayy



Series: whatever it takes [16]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Charming - Freeform, Captain Cobra - Freeform, Future Fic, Multi, cs fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 20:50:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10998744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostalongtthewayy/pseuds/lostalongtthewayy
Summary: — ღ —  “I broke down crying in your Grandfather’s arms the night my daughter was born…” — or, you know, the night the wee babies are born and how these guys handled the whole thing.  (slightly)angsty fluff? :) CaptainCharming II CaptainCobra —





	breathe

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously never in a million years happening in canon, but I’m still craving already all the Daddy!Killian/Grandpa!Killian fluff, so here’s THIS anyway! I very selfishly needed it! :D Flashbacks are in Italics.

* * *

 

Killian wishes he knew the exact way or words to help the lad. He knows in his heart that everything is going to turn out fine regardless, but he still wishes Henry knew this as well.

And he knows, oh Killian knows  _rationally_  Henry probably knows everything’s going to be okay already, but Killian also knows, from his own experience, that right this second, rationality isn’t exactly first on Henry’s mind.

So he waits it out. Killian doesn’t exactly want to approach Henry with his unsolicited opinion, but he still knows the two of them are bound to exchange some words at some point this day anyway.

Killian knows it’s not the right time yet though. The lad is seemingly trying to appear so tough and in control of the whole situation and Killian respects that.

Killian has to commend him for it even; he’s doing a much more believable job than Killian ever did once upon a time when he was in Henry’s shoes.

Needlessly to say, Killian Jones can’t be prouder of his lad right now.

— ღ   —

_He’s losing it._

_He’s shaking and he feels as though someone has a very tight grip on his heart right now. He feels sweaty and tingly —as though he’s being suffocated from the inside out. He tries to force himself to breathe but it comes out shallow and rapid. He shudders; eyes squeezing against the tears he doesn’t wish to cry._

_His chest almost hurts and he wants— he doesn’t know what he wants —he just needs to **do** something, but he’s useless. All evening he’s done nothing but watch and it’s —it’s too bloody much for him to handle._

_Killian turns facing a wall, his palm flat on the cool surface steadying him. He doesn’t trust his legs to hold him up so he leans heavily onto the wall, his forehead touching its surface. He breathes, harshly and unsteady, he wants to scream really —cry perhaps too, out of frustration and—_

_“Breathe,” a voice calls, and Killian hears it muffled by the sound of his very own heart pounding in his ears. “Breathe,”_

_He can’t. He’s trying, but he just can’t—_

_It’s fear what he feels._

_Paralyzing fear coursing through his entire body without mercy._

_“You’re all right —you just need to breathe and calm down…”_

_Killian recognizes now the voice —it’s David. His hands are on him, squeezing his arms, trying to keep him straight on his feet._

_“It’s all right…” He repeats, but Killian’s not sure about that._

_He shakes his head as his legs finally do give up, and he falls to his knees._

— ღ   —

“Breathe lad, it’s all right, it’s just me,” Killian says breezily to a clearly startled Henry.

He coughs and of course, tries to pretend nothing happened. “’m fine,” he assures him. “Just didn’t hear you come, is all…”

Killian smirks, although he does accept Henry’s words with a small nod. “How are you holding up?” he asks, genuinely wanting to know, but still unable to keep the delight off his tone and face.

Henry puts up a front —the brave one he’s practiced all day long with just about everybody in this place. It’s important to them — _Henry and Emma_ — Killian has noted, to stay in control. To avoid showing their vulnerability to just about anybody. They are particular about whom they choose to expose themselves and their feelings to. They are a lot alike those two, Killian thinks. They are strong and courageous, but also owners of very soft hearts. Very tender hearts that love and feel a wee bit too much sometimes

They always prefer to stand strong in the face of sadness and battles —they  _are_ strong, but at times, they surely confuse that strength for an irrational need to hide their struggles and sometimes even their hurting from those around them. Killian can’t say he blames them though —he can be that very same way as well.

Maybe it’s just a family thing…

“I’m good, I’m…I’m excited,” Henry replies then at last, in a resolute tone, “Today’s exciting,”

Well, since Killian can’t especially argue with him in that one, for now, he’s simply going to agree… “Oh, that it is, lad…that it is…”

— ღ   —

_He sobs. Out of nowhere, all these feelings he’s been bottling up inside himself come to the surface, and he can’t stop it. Chocked sobs come out of him as he struggles to just simply bloody breathe._

_His vision is blurry and his chest is still tight as though somebody were holding and squeezing his very heart._

_David’s still with him, and he’s talking but Killian can’t quite make out the words he’s saying. He notes, vaguely, the steady pressure on his arm —David’s fingers squeezing tight —it’s reassuring, if anything else._

_He thinks it’s stopping, but then David’s pushing him off the wall slightly, and instead wrapping him into a bone crushing hug._

_Killian fights it for a beat, struggles against his father in law, but then —then he just allows it._

_He allows himself to sob fully, unable to hold it back any longer._

_It’s short lived however —thankfully— but still physically exhausting all the same._

_He wants to tell David that he’s fine, but the words somehow don’t form. David’s patting his back, having pulled back slightly from him already. They are both on their knees, on the floor, facing a wall that Killian supposes was meant to be white at some point, but it’s now just a pasty shade of yellow._

_The corner Killian chose (not really **chose** , but ended up in) is secluded enough —away from all the buzz and commotion of the hospital. He’s not supposed to be gone long —neither one of them is, and yet…_

_“Dave,”_

_“You don’t have to say anything,” David tells him then, interrupting, yet his tone is soothing and fatherly._

_Killian forces the air out of his lungs through his nose a few times then, hoping against hope to make his body be_ _composed again_ _._ _Instead, however, he feels tears pooling at his eyes. His face reddens and he knows it’s a slippery slope —it’s seconds now before he cracks again._

_“She’s fine,” David reminds him, but Killian doesn’t appreciate it much, honestly._

_He pushes from the prince —far harsher than he intended to, but he can’t help it. “She’s not fine, David,” Killian almost growls. He stands in front of David, he straightens himself up, tries like hell to appear far stronger than he feels and it almost, almost works. “She’s in pai— in pain, David— bloody hell,” he cries as his voice breaks._

_Killian shakes his head, his hand reaching to the bridge of his nose as he turns away from David._

_David allows it —but only for a small moment. One of his hands goes to reach Killian’s shoulder once more, and he squeezes hard. “She is fine —Emma is fine, and she is strong, but she still needs you right now…”_

_His words aren’t helping though —it’s not as if Killian doesn’t know this already and it makes him angrier with himself._

_“You have to pull yourself together,” David says then, his tone has changed slightly, where there has only been compassion and understanding before, now there’s weight and authority as well._

_Killian feels a pull to look at him over his shoulder, eyes narrowed and guarded._

_David’s looking at him sternly, but there’s kindness in the small smile he offers then too. “You can do this, son. You just have to go to her…” he says, making Killian swallow hard. “Go to your family…”_

— ღ   —

It’s later, much much later that Killian decides to approach.

He can see Henry’s façade slightly cracking despite his best attempts to keep it strong. Killian isn’t going to be one to just ambush the lad, but he still feels like it  _is_  his place to come to him at this time.

Henry doesn’t startle this time when Killian sits by him —it’s almost as if he was expecting it. He looks at him, regards him for a moment, as he always does, and then nods as Killian sits. “You should go home, you know?” Henry says. “They’re saying it’s going to be a while,”

Killian sits back on his seat, comfortably. He stretches his legs out in front of him and hums. “I’m fine right where I am, lad…” Killian says, and for a while, a really long while, that is all they say.

Henry sits back on his seat as well. He’s tense though —nothing like the carefree posture Killian is so exuberantly trying to sell. He’s stressed out and maybe being out here is not such a great idea after all —especially when Killian’s just sitting there not saying anyth—

“You weren’t here when the little lass was born, were you?”

His words take Henry by surprise — “Um, what?” He shakes his head, eyes shifting in a flash to Killian.

“The night Estella was born —if my memory serves me well, you weren’t here that night,”

The words take him down memory lane in instants —

“Uh, no,” Henry mumbles, still slightly confused. “No, no I wasn’t here…”

Killian hums again —that unnerving Dad hum he does when he’s not finished with a thought but wants to create crap-Dad-suspense.

Henry sighs, exasperated, and when he turns to Killian, the bastard looks amused. Henry’s about to call him on his crap, but then—

Then Killian Jones —Captain Jones, Captain  _Hook,_  casually and calmly says, “I broke down crying in your Grandfather’s arms the night my daughter was born…”

— ღ   —

_“She’s my whole world, David,” the frustration is edging his every word but he’s still trying like hell to keep the rest of his emotions in check. “I don’t know what to do,”_

_“I know you don’t,” David tells him, his eyes soft and understanding. “I know” he repeats, before using both his hands on Killian’s shoulders to square him to him. “All you can do is be there for her —for your family,” David tells him strongly. “All these what ifs you’re thinking, you have to stop it right now,”_

_Killian sucks in a breath, steadily holding David’s stare. He nods, swallowing hard the huge lump in his throat._

_“Take this from the man that had to put his newborn daughter in a magical wardrobe because of a damned curse —you’re lucky,” he tells Killian. “You’re scared, and that’s completely normal, but don’t let those fears make you forget how incredibly blessed you are right now, son…”_

_David’s hand is squeezing his shoulder reassuringly once more, and all Killian can do is duck his head, and shut his eyes. He knows David’s right but all day he just hasn’t been able to stop thinking in the worst case scenario —something happening to Emma, something happening to their baby, but…_

_“You go to them now. You go and you tell Emma and my grandbaby that I adore them very much, all right?”_

_Killian nods immediately —he blinks and suddenly he’s sure again. He’s resolute to listen to David and push his fears aside  —he needs to do this right now because David’s right; his family needs him. “Aye, your majesty…”_

— ღ   —

“We haven’t spoken of that night since but…that night, that moment, those hours before my daughter was born…it all came to become too much for me…”

Despite having a pretty great guess as to why, Henry wants desperately to ask him to elaborate.

Thankfully, Killian answers him without him having to ask the question first. “I just couldn’t bear seeing your mother in that kind of pain…”

Henry only holds his stare for another moment before his eyes fall, and he bites his lower lip. He’s nervous all of a sudden, because here’s Killian touching all the very subjects Henry’s tried to avoid all day —if not for all of the last nine months, really.

“I was probably a selfish arse,” Killian continues speaking softly. “Your mother was the one bringing our baby into the world, and yet there I was, feeling sorry for myself,”

And that is  _exactly_ how Henry feels right now. He’s not the one in pain, he’s not the one trying to give birth to a baby — _his baby—_ and yet…

Henry wants to tell Killian that he’s wrong about him right now. That he doesn’t know what he’s saying, or why he’s saying any of this, but…he can’t do that, he can’t lie —not to Killian. So instead, he says, “I never thought it was going to be like this — _feel_  like this…”

“I know, lad…” Killian tells him. “I know…”

Henry turns to look at him, skeptic, but then Killian quirks a brow and shrugs at him. “She’s a strong one though —your girl,” he smiles knowingly, and Henry can just barely help the tears that pool in his eyes at the mere mention of  _his_ girl. “She’s strong and fierce, fits right up with our family,”

Henry looks away, a watery chuckle escaping him as Killian’s hand comes to claps his shoulder. He squeezes hard, and Henry swallows —there’s more.

“You know how you can help?”

Henry turns and just stares at him, his eyes pleading and soft. Killian smiles. “You go and  _be_ with her.” He tells him simply. “Be whatever she needs you to be right now —allow these long hours to pass because once they do and your wee baby is here —ah, my boy…once he is, your lives are never going to be the same…”

That is exactly what scares him though —what then… _what if_ …what if he just isn’t ready? What if he sucks? What if he lets his own child down? What if—

“You’re never going to feel ready enough, lad,” Killian interrupts Henry’s thoughts just like that. The lad looks over at him with shock in his eyes, but Killian still pushes through knowingly. “I’ve been around for over two centuries and yet the night Estella was born it was as though everything I knew, everything I  _thought_  I knew, became moot and  _she_ became everything…”

Henry makes a face as though he’s seriously considering his words. He doesn’t like it. “You’re telling me you had over 200 years to ready yourself and it still wasn’t enough? I barely got 28!”

Killian makes a face, and his hand shoots up to scratch at his ear. “Fair enough, lad, but still…that wasn’t my point,” he reminds Henry. “My point is, you may  _think_ you are not ready, and you may perhaps be right, but…it  _doesn’t matter,”_ Killian stresses pointedly. “Whether you are ready or not, that babe is coming and you’ve got to pull yourself together. For your wife, your wee baby —and yourself as well, son.” Killian smiles, an honest little thing in his face as he nods and his hand goes to squeeze Henry’s shoulder. “You’re about to become a  _father_  and that is the most wonderful occasion —you’re a lucky man Henry Mills and you should enjoy this. We are all here for you lad, and we are all so proud as well,” he tells him. “I know I am…I’m incredibly proud of you, my boy…”

And for some reason that does it —Henry’s still nervous, he’s still anxious and more than slightly stressed out about the next few hours, but all the same he also feels hopeful at last too.

For the first time all evening, all day perhaps, he feels as though he can breathe easy again, so he does… _he breathes_.

— ღ   —

It isn’t until the sun has risen the next day that they meet her. A wee  _lass_. Healthy and beautiful.

Loud.

Very much perfect.

Killian’s in love, watching with adoration as his wife holds the small baby and comments on her every perfect feature —her chin, her nose, her ears — an absolute marvel she is.

Killian’s already taken by her —she’s hours old but he already knows he’ll go to the end of the world for this little girl.

“You oughta hold her,”

Henry’s voice breaks him from his thoughts —he’s been staring at the tiny lass and Emma, and truly, he was perfectly content just watching those two ladies.

Now however…well, now Emma is smiling at him hugely, her previously sleepy green eyes  _huge_ right now with love and wonder —with so much  _hope_ as she nods toward him and the oh-so tiny little girl in her arms.

Killian looks up over at Henry. The lad looks composed —sure of himself,  _happy._ “She’s your granddaughter —you ought to hold her, dad…” Henry nods at Killian hearteningly, and Killian nods back at him in kind.

She’s asleep, her small face wrinkled as low sweet sounds escape her as she’s transferred into his arms.

He melts.

Killian feels his heart melting right then and there —she’s beautiful and tiny, and so very precious. “Hello there Lucy,” he whispers softly to the babe alone. He stares at her quietly for a moment —his pinky finger reaching up to touch her delicate cheek. “I’m your Grandpa, my wee princess…I’m so,  _so_  pleased to finally meet you…”


End file.
